


good intent

by sightetsound



Series: slipping through [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: (sort of), Bottom Billy Hargrove, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Makeup Sex, Sexual Coercion, Steve is Not Nice, Top Steve Harrington
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 08:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16014053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sightetsound/pseuds/sightetsound
Summary: “I missed you,” Steve murmured, damn him. All quiet and torn up like he had any right to be, “Wanted to come see how you're doing. See you.”“Peachy,” Billy managed, opening the door wider, “See you around—”“Have you really been hanging out with Ben Jacobs?” he asked in a rush, like he'd been holding it in, surprising them both. He recovered quick enough to add, “He graduated like two years ago, how'd you-... How'd you even meet?”





	good intent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thecopperkid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecopperkid/gifts).



> Part ii to Weed & Whiskey  
> Not super necessary for you to read that bit, but it helps sorta frame... this. 
> 
> Inspired by conversations with Jules about makeup sex.

“Haven’t seen you around,” Harrington remarked as he took a cursory turn around Billy’s room like he owned the place.

“Got more to do than suck your dick whenever you want it,” he snapped in return. Harder than he intended. Softer still than Steve probably deserved.

His tone startled them both into silence for a moment, and Billy reflexively tightened his hand around the doorknob.

He looked out his window to note the sun's placement in the sky, took note of the gradually dimming sunlight. Within the hour, Neil would be home from work. Pissed off about work, pissed about Susan's shitty cooking, pissed off by Billy breathing wrong around him.

“Look, Harrington, you need to go.”

Jaw working, he looked back to Steve who had finally stopped in his casual exploration of Billy's space to _look_ at him. His goddamn doe eyes softened Billy against his will, and he fucking hated himself for considering that maybe, maybe Steve did actually miss him.

“I missed you,” Steve murmured, damn him. All quiet and torn up like he had any right to be, “Wanted to come see how you're doing. See you.”

“Peachy,” Billy managed, opening the door wider, “See you around—”

“Have you really been hanging out with Ben Jacobs?” he asked in a rush, like he'd been holding it in, surprising them both. He recovered quick enough to add, “He graduated like _two years ago_ , how'd you-... How'd you even _meet_?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Billy dismissed because it _didn’t._ No one’s business but his own. “Neil doesn’t like when _us kids_ have company over that he doesn’t know, so can you fuck off?”

“It matters to me.” Steve took a few steps toward the door, toward Billy, those big brown eyes of his never leaving where they’d fixed on his face. “Billy, it matters to me. I thought-... I don’t know what I thought,” he scoffed.

Billy wanted to smear the sad smile off his face one way or another.

“How many times I gotta tell you to _get out_ before you listen, huh?”

“I’m trying to figure out what the fuck happened between us, shithead!” Steve was close enough now to give Billy’s shoulder a light shove. “You fucking _bailed_ on me, and for what? _Ben Jacobs?_ ” he scoffed a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief, “I _miss_ you. You telling me you don’t miss me?”

_I miss you every damn day,_ Billy thought but didn’t say.

“Steve—”

“Just-... tell me. Please? Did I-... did I _do_ something? _Say_ something?” he asked, standing near enough now that Billy shifted his weight to put some more distance between them that Steve was quick to close. His touch ghosted over BIlly’s forearm, his wrist, and down his fingers that subsequently, reflexively, jerked from the contact.

Of all times, of all _places_ for Steve to be affectionate, Billy thought, stealing another glance out his window—

“I don’t want to lose you, too.”

He looked at Steve, his furrowed brow smoothing out in something like awe, but then it rapidly reformed when the _‘too’_ registered.

“If this is about your _bullshit_ with Whee—”

“It’s not bullshit!” Steve interrupted, looking fucking tormented and shit, “Fuck, you’re a real asshole.”

“ _I_ _’m_ the asshole?”

Billy asked, standing to his full height and getting that much closer to Steve to fucking remind him of _that night_ if he needed to, remind him that Billy didn’t like being _lied_ to.

“You’re sure as shit being one right now,” Steve added, but he seemed to remember himself under Billy’s hard gaze and proximity, his gaze lowering.

Billy’s blood _sang_ at being recognized for the threat he could be but it halted entirely when he realized that Steve was staring at his mouth.

There’s that moment, he acknowledged distantly, when two people realize simultaneously they’re going to kiss. It’s magnetic, impossible to snap out of that mesmerizing state, both parties helpless and gravitating towards the other, breath bated—

Steve’s mouth brushed his, and Billy was too stunned to respond. Lips pressed more insistently against his, urging him into action, and Billy released his amulet he didn’t remember grabbing hold of to yank Steve closer by his shirt. He licked into Steve’s mouth, giving and taking with tongue and teeth.

One of them moaned – Billy couldn’t say who – and the spell was broken. Billy shoved Steve away and backed up himself, breath coming heavy and hard.

“Screw you, Harrington,” he bit out, voice rough and quiet under the pounding of his heartbeat, tongue passing over his bottom lip to taste them.

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” Steve asked because the idiot didn’t know when to quit.

“Get the fuck out,” Billy whispered, somehow swallowing down a breath through the tightness of his throat.

Not only did Steve not get out, he closed his bedroom door.

“ _Isn’t_ it?”

Billy couldn’t answer. Didn't want to agree, didn't want to lie.

“Please tell me,” Steve whispered, inching close again to try catching Billy's gaze again. “I wanna- wanna give you what you want.”

His pulse raced at the words, and he reluctantly looked to Steve to see if he was fucking saying what Billy thought he was saying. If he _meant_ it.

Steve looked earnest and honest, but when didn't he? Steve _begging_ is what gave him pause. He’d never heard Harrington beg Billy for anything. Not sex, certainly not whatever the fuck _this_ was.

“Wanna give you what you need. If you'll let me.” he was saying in his ear, and Billy’s abdomen clenched at the hint of wet heat at his ear. Gave a shuddered sigh when Steve caught flesh between his teeth to suck.

_This_ was King Steve. This was the guy he’d heard rumors and stories about. Charming. Capable of making someone feel like they were the only one in the world.

A hand tipped Billy’s jaw to expose more of his throat, and the sensation of tender nips against even more tender skin made his eyes fall heavy. A sharp bite made Billy sway heavy into Steve, panting out wet and thick against his shoulder. The swipe of his tongue after made his hands lift to grip the back of Steve’s preppy fuckin’ polo, desperate for solid ground in the thick of this dreamlike haze.

He stared sightlessly out his window, unrecognizing.

“Missed you, baby,” Steve sighed, and Billy’s cock jumped at the proffered pet-name, made him gasp, but then Steve _laughed_ , the fucker, and _that_ sound made Billy moan. “Woulda called you baby sooner if I knew you liked it that much.”

Billy sneered, made to pull back to prove him _wrong_ but Steve’s mouth was back on his throat, and he was lost.

“Feeling good?” Steve asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose along Billy’s jaw in so _cute_ a move it made him angry, “I can tell.” Steve pressed forward to nudge the hard lines of their cocks together.

They both made quiet sounds, hands grabbing and squeezing and pulling at the other’s clothes, hips grinding and pressing and arching for more. Steve shoved forward to press him against the wall, thigh pressed between Billy’s while he rubbed against his hip.

“ _Fuck_ , this feels good,” Steve mumbled, lifting his head from Billy’s throat to breathe in and against his mouth.

Billy could barely nod, too conscious of the occasional brush of Steve’s bottom lip against his to reply in words. He sucked in his own bottom lip to taste it, eyes on Steve, and felt a stab of _satisfaction_ with how closely Steve tracked the motion. The _second_ he freed his lip, Steve leaned in to capture Billy in a kiss that – this time – he was prepared for.

He gave as good as he got, which was to say _very_ , both of them pressing for more and deeper. Steve kept _this_ from him for months, the slide of lips, the playful bites that bordered on painful now and again, the soothing licks that followed.

Billy drew back to lick the bow of Steve’s upper lip, nipping as he withdrew from Steve’s reddened mouth.

“Should’ve done this, like, weeks ago,” Steve whispered, and. Well.

He couldn’t _not_ kiss him after that.

Billy licked into his mouth, hands sliding down his back to pull him closer by his cute fuckin’ ass, dragging him harder against his body to feel how hard he was – how hard _he_ made him. Steve moaned into his mouth and curled his hips to grind the entirety of his fat cock alongside his own. Everything inside Billy clenched feeling him _there_ , and not where he needed to be.

“Wanna–” Steve managed in between open-mouthed kisses, “Wanna make you feel good. Let me make it up to you, baby? I’m sorry.”

Billy already felt good – _baby, fuck_ – but he was sort of desperate to keep whatever this dream was going, so—

“Yeah,” he panted against Steve’s mouth because he couldn’t fucking move away now that he had this, “Fuck yeah.”

“Want my dick?” he asked, and _God,_ he hated when Steve talked like that, but he definitely _did_ want it.

“Yes, I don’t got all day,” Billy answered, reaching between them to unbuckle Steve’s belt so that he could get at what was in his jeans.

“Night,” Steve corrected mildly.

Billy paused at the correction to look up at the orangey red of the sky.

“ _Shit,”_ he said, dropping his hands from Steve, “You need to go.”

“What?” Steve scoffed with a too-sweet smile, “No way. I was a dick, and I gotta make it up to you. Gotta make this right between us.”

That was _adorable_ , but Billy couldn’t spare the time to appreciate it right then.

“Later on, okay– _fuck,”_ he cursed with feeling when Steve got his hand against his dick for a change. He rocked instinctively into the warm touch, whining low when Steve squeezed. “ _S_ _teve,_ ” Billy panted, reaching down to wrap his fingers around his wrist with every intention of stopping him, but it felt so _good,_ “Neil will be home soon, we can’t–”

“I’ll be quick,” he offered, pressing trailed kisses from his cheek to his mouth, “Let me give you what you want, Billy.” A firm kiss, a firmer stroke, and then, “Baby.”

Against his better judgement, his hand fell away. Steve gave him a sugary smile and deftly undid Billy’s jeans, delving a hand in the tight material to cup him through his briefs.

“Ben Jacobs make you this hard?”

Billy felt himself flush.

“No,” he answered honestly, pushing aside the swell of shame to poke at like a fading bruise later, “Do you have–”

“Yeah, I brought some,” he said, smile turning mischievous for a sec, “Just in case.”

“Dick,” Billy whispered, but it was fond enough, and he appreciated that Steve came prepared. Just in case. “Hurry up about it, Harrington.”

“Gotta open you up first.”

“No,” Billy replied immediately, and they both paused a moment to look at one another. “I, uh… saw Jacobs during lunch.”

“Oh,” was Steve’s reply, and Billy was almost certain he fucked up, but then he smirked and added, “Didn’t satisfy you, huh? I’ll take care of you, baby.”

“He’s not you,” Billy admitted, shy suddenly, “Definitely not hung like you, either.”

To say Steve preened under the compliment would be an understatement. The fucker _glowed_ with it, confident and knowing.

“Did you think of me?” he asked while pushing Billy’s jeans and briefs down low enough to bare his ass.

His hands on Billy’s skin made his dick _leak._

“Yeah,” he breathed, gasping softly when he felt two of Steve’s lubricated fingers press inside his hole to check his looseness. He chased the sensation, couldn’t help but grind down for more, then sighed harshly when Steve removed his fingers entirely.

“How often?”

Billy dropped his gaze when Steve shimmied his own jeans down enough, greedily taking in the sight of his cock, reddened and thick and long and curved up towards his belly it was so hard–

“Every time, Harrington, come _on,_ ” Billy urged, heart beating hard and not only for pleasure, “Running out of time here.”

“We won’t get caught,” Steve assured with a conviction that, strangely, Billy believed, “I’m a ninja. Just gimme a second, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

That was— sweet, actually.

“You make _him_ use a condom?” Steve asked as he squeezed more lubricant out onto his palm, giving Billy a cocky smirk. He wrapped his fingers around himself, stroking slow, twisting his wrist as he went.

Billy could hardly complain about the view, either, watching Steve slick his own cock up. Even if he _was_ going slow about it just to piss him off.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Steve confirmed, all pleased. His hand fell away after a precious few more indulgent strokes that Billy himself could almost _feel._

“Say please?”

Fuck, Billy wanted to punch him sometimes.

He turned around to face the wall, bending over a little to press his ass out in offering.

“Fucking _please,_ ” Billy granted, almost embarrassed at how needy he sounded.

“Hey, hey, wait…” Steve said, taking hold of Billy’s arm to turn him around and press a kiss so gentle to his mouth that it made Billy burn on the inside. “Wanna see your face.”

Like that wasn’t something he actively avoided doing until now.

“Yeah,” Billy said dumbly, staring at Steve, “Okay.”

The bed was out, couldn’t chance staining his bedding, and fucking face-to-face while standing up was ambitious for even athletic teenagers like they were, but…

They both looked at the full-length mirror against the wall, then at one another. A beat of quiet laughter between them when the shared realization struck them.

That decided, Billy turned and placed his hands on either side of the mirror, looking into his reflection over his shoulder at Harrington who pressed up tight to his back.

“Ready?” he asked, so considerate suddenly that Billy felt something like affection bloom in his chest.

When he nodded, too fucked up to speak, Harrington took his cock and pressed the thick head to Billy’s hole. His eyes fluttered, and he instinctively pressed back to meet the pressure at his hole. Harrington hardly moved at all, just rocked his hips _barely_ to watch, Billy realized with a flush, as his body opened around his cock.

Since Steve wasn’t doing anything to _stop_ him, Billy leaned forward and pressed back, further, more, relishing the stretch and slide of Steve filling him up.

“Fuck,” Steve murmured, and again, “ _Fuck._ ”

Billy watched Steve’s reflection, relished in how he kept looking between his face and to watch as he took his cock. He moved forwards, then rocked back again to ease himself into the stretch, but eventually, he _wanted,_ so he took it _all._

Steve’s head tipped back on a silent moan, then fell forward to press his forehead to Billy’s shoulder, and it was so fucking hot he thought he might come then and there. Steve trembled, hips rocking against Billy’s ass as though trying to press deeper, and it made his thighs shake.

“You feel good, baby, so _good_ for me,” he exhaled against his skin, smearing kisses over his shoulder and neck. “No one feels like you do, _fuck._ ”

Billy nodded shakily, rocking back to fuck himself on Steve’s cock for relief, and to coax him into _moving._

He got the hint.

Hands gripped Billy’s hips hard, and Steve withdrew until only his cockhead was held snug inside his body, then slammed in deep. The resulting slap of skin made them both wince, so Steve dropped a hand to hook under one of Billy’s thighs, lifting it up to help spread his ass wider.

Billy wouldn’t admit it, but he fucking liked Steve moving him how he wanted.

The next thrust came, and Billy was gone.

His eyes rolled closed, and he did all he could to stand upright while Steve buried his cock in him over and over. Sometimes he rolled his hips, other times he just fucking pounded into him like he needed it more than air, but the one constant was that his eyes _stayed_ on Billy’s face.

He could feel him watching how his mouth fell open on soundless cries, watch as pleasure made his head fall forward against the mirror until Steve reached up to tug his head back by his hair, watched how he fucked Billy Hargrove so good it made him calm, made him easy.

Steve never really _watched_ him before. Watched as he fucked his mouth, definitely, but that was more a _part_ of him than it was _him._ Being watched, being _seen_ by Steve in this way fed his pleasure in ways Billy never knew about before.

It felt so good it _hurt._

His eyes shot open when Steve took hold of his cock. He bit his lip and fucked into Steve’s fist, then back onto his cock, breath coming harder under the two singular pleasures. His abdomen drew tight, ass clenching around Steve’s dick, needing just a little—

Steve’s hand fell away, and Billy mourned his lost orgasm with a moan.

“Can you come on my dick?” Steve asked against his ear, thrusting in such a way that _dragged_ the crown of his cock over his prostate and made Billy twitch and see spots.

“I don’t— _nnh_ , I don’t _know, fuck,_ maybe?”

“Will you try for me?”

It was almost full dark now.

He gave a nod. Steve flashed him a brilliant smile, pressed a kiss to his neck, and doubled his efforts. He pressed deep into Billy’s body, moaned low against his hear that he felt perfect, took his cock so well, that he was gorgeous, and it was _that_ that really got to him, like he was some sort of bitch craving validation, craving _approval_ when Billy’s never needed that from _anyone_ but Steve wasn’t just _anyone,_ he was someone, he was _Billy’s_ —

“I’m close,” Steve whispered shakily, kissing beneath his ear sloppily, “ _Fuck,_ you keep going so _tight_ around me like you need it, need my dick, it’s so hot,” Steve praised, “You’re so hot.”

His thrusts became less measured strokes, more frenzied and frantic, and that sort of _base_ instinct made Billy’s own orgasm build.

“Baby,” Steve cried softly, fucking into him harder, faster, “Baby—”

The pressure built, hastened by Steve’s noises and his precise thrusts. He broke out into a full-body shiver at a particularly solid stroke, and Billy had to bite his knuckles to keep from crying out.

“Steve,” Billy gasped, hand grasping Steve’s at his hips. He threaded their fingers together and held on while pleasure spread and made his skin tingle, made his balls draw up tight to his body. He whimpered a low sound, knowing that he was bound to fall any second at all, but he wanted, he _wanted_ —

Steve’s hips snapped erratically, and he pressed his face into Billy’s neck to muffle what noises he couldn’t stop. He fucked Billy through his orgasm, emptying his seed deep inside him, and with those last few thrusts, he let himself come.

He shuddered through it, painting his mirror with streaks of cum, head falling back to rest against Steve’s. Steve released his thigh to wrap fingers around his dick, and Billy nearly whimpered at the almost overwhelming sensation of the last of his orgasm being wrung out of him that way.

He gasped softly when Steve tightened his grip around his cock and stroked him firmly.

“Sensitive,” he protested, rubbing his face against the side of Steve’s head to breathe in his smell.

“I know,” Steve murmured, “Figured you needed it after—”

“If you say _Ben Jacobs_ one more time—”

Steve laughed, gripping Billy’s hip as he pulled out with a hiss. Billy bit his lip at his sudden emptiness, having to blink for a moment to recover from the stupor Steve often left him in.

Recovery came quickly with the sound of the front door opening.

Panic forced Billy into action; he tucked himself away and put his clothing to rights in seconds. He turned to Steve to tell him to get out only to see him already reaching out for the doorknob.

“Through the _window,_ Harrington, _fuck,_ ” Billy hissed, shoving him towards it. He yanked the cord to open his blinds and pushed his window open as quickly and quietly as he could. Once done, he stepped aside to push at Steve again.

“Go,” Billy begged when he was met with resistance.

“Just wanna say something real quick,” he said, searching his gaze, “Thank you.”

Billy scoffed.

“Not for _that,_ dickhead. I mean, that _too,_ but. For being my… y’know.” Steve looked away a moment, and shrugged a shoulder.

“For being your what?” Billy asked, entirely too aware of the beating to come, but too hopeful and invested in this moment to let it pass.

Steve looked at him again with a boyish smile that Billy wanted to kiss.

“For being my best friend.”


End file.
